The joy of cooking

I had never really considered that cooking could be fun. I mean, standing at a place and baking 20 chapathis for a family seemed pretty mundane.

But having gotten sick of bread and a patty in between (they call them burgers), I was forced to start cooking.

I was pleased when a colleague I was moving in with, told me "I am an excellent cook."

The arrogant self appraisal pricked me but I was optimistic for my own good.

But then when we finally moved into the apartment:

"But I know only vegetarian" he said.

"$^%#$!@#!"

So, one noon, after a week of vegan, the craving for some chicken legs started and I called on a friend who gave instructions. That attempt turned out to be surprisingly good and then I was hooked.

Since then I have made chicken curries, barbecue chicken and then upuma and potato curry after calling mom for the recipe which turned out really good.

There is nothing more satisfying than making something really tasty. What makes it interesting is that, much like building anything else, unless the whole is built, you usually don't know how its going to turn out. And the careful calibration required while adding spices and such is nothing less than an art.

But still, there are things I do not like. Like, washing dishes and making rotis.